Barbies and Lighters
by The Light From Street Lamps
Summary: Like all kids, he liked to play games. His favorites involved barbies and lighters. Chase/Gill, rated for smut, violence, grotesque themes, underage, dubious consent.
1. Chapter 1

Barbies and Lighters

Prologue

When Gill was young, he was beautiful.

Thankfully, every feature that he had was that of his mother. Her figure was thin and wispy, her legs were long and her face was that of happiness. Her hair was a perfectly straight blonde, so bright it looked white when she stood in the sunlight. It seemed only she had the ability to make the rainbows look more beautiful when she stood next to them, and Mayor Hamilia was a beautiful person underneath her surface through and through.

Renowned as prodigal, Gill earned the title of "The Mayor's Beautiful Son" to everyone that knew him. Quiet, smart, bookish, even those traits could never overshadow "beautiful". It was only his antisocial personality that held him back from making any friends, and kids could be cruel.

When Hamilia died, it was the beginning of Gill's end.

When Mayor Hamilton was put in charge, "The Mayor's Beautiful Son" dwindled. Eventually, the title "beautiful" became associated with "intelligent". If some were feeling generous, or if they knew the family from long ago, they'd even go so far as to replace "intelligent" with "hardworking".

The rainbows died a few months after Mayor Hamilia was put to rest in the town Cemetery. With Gill being too young to care about anything other than his mother being put into the ground, later he'd look back on this memory and critique on the service. The flowers were wrong. The headstone should have been engraved with more than "Here Lies Mayor Hamilia". She deserved a better service.

From then on, he devoted himself to attaining the responsibilities given to his father. His Dad could never have taken care of Waffle Town more than he could he mused, so when his father offered him a job at the Town Hall, he jumped at the chance.

It was only later when Gill really thought about it did he notice the boy in his memories that he hadn't taken notice of before.

_Gill and Chase, 6 and 11_

It was raining. Gill stayed after the service to pay his respects to his mother's grave.

There was no point in sitting, even after the two hours that he'd stayed sniffling over his mother's tomb. His father understood, giving him a pat on the shoulder before going back to his home, presumably to do the same grieving.

Despite his appearance in contrast to his mother, his father was the epitome of everything rightly spoken in the world. He knew that kids needed the same time to cry that adults did, and in his silent nod he had told Gill to _'come home soon'._ In his look back over his shoulder, he added _'before you catch a cold'._

Gill didn't listen. His father may have been the voice of everything rightly spoken, but it didn't mean he had to listen. He had his black umbrella rested on his right shoulder, and that was all he needed.

Chase had just moved into the inn with his birthparents. They feared he was too young to understand the concept of grief, and it wouldn't have mattered seeing as he didn't know Mayor Hamilia anyway, so they permitted him leave to wander the town and introduce himself.

Even though it was raining, Chase stuck his arms into the sleeves of his gray sweater and zippered it up to the collar. He shoved his feet into his purple rain boots, shoved his hands into his pockets, and called back to his parents to let them know he was leaving. When they didn't respond because of their quiet talks with Yolanda, he left anyway, heading off into Maple Lake District.

Growing up in the city, the rural side was a nice kind of different. It was weird being allowed outside without someone to walk with him through the streets, but his parents seemed relatively calm about letting him talk to strangers around here, so he didn't mind.

One peculiar stranger he saw from across the hill. From the height of him, it looked like he was a lot younger. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't think about introducing himself. Playing with little kids was annoying, and they didn't grasp the same things that he could. They were babies, and Chase could be considered an _adult._

Chase caught himself staring. This stranger was a _beautiful_ stranger, and from a little ways away, this stranger looked like a pretty girl that he could talk to. It didn't quite register that he was in the Cemetery, and much less wearing black. Even though girls were gross, it couldn't hurt to make friends with a pretty one.

Gill sniffled as he stared into the slanted lettering of his Mother's grave. He could read at a fifth grade level, but these words didn't make sense. They were just randomly strung letters that didn't mean anything but had all the meaning in the world.

As Chase shuffled closer, Gill didn't bother turning his head to the sound of kicked rocks. Chase's hands were balled up in fists in his pockets, and Gill's held loose around the handle of his umbrella.

"Hey."

The voice of a stranger in the cemetery with him didn't change the direction of his head. Gill still looked down at the headstone of where his mother was buried, sniffling quietly before rubbing his runny nose on the sleeve of his sweater. He didn't care about getting sick. He didn't care about _anything._

"Are you okay?"

The sound of concern in this strangers voice was the only reason Gill tore his gaze away from his mother's burial plot. Still wiping his nose off on his sweater, he stared puffy-eyed into the face of another boy who looked a little older. Gill didn't want to speak to anyone, but there was something about talking to another kid like himself that changed things.

"... hey."

He couldn't drudge up the energy to speak anything but quietly, his tiny chest heaving with every broken sob he tried so hard to push back.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Gill didn't respond.

"Well, I guess you're not okay if you're still crying. Do you want to hang out with me?"

The sound of "hanging out" sounded weird in Chase's mouth, at least in his own opinion. He thought that the sound of hanging out sounded older, like what big kids did. He was too old to "play" anymore, even if games were fun. Gill didn't seem to notice that anything was amiss and shook his head no. Broken sobs still pushed out of his chest, heaving breaths heavy with sadness.

"That sucks."

Chase stood still for a while, listening to the rain fall while just a few feet from this strange girl who couldn't stop crying and didn't want to "hang out".

When Gill got the strength to move from his spot and travel slowly down the arch that lead from the cemetery, the boy that asked him if he'd like to hang out was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Barbies and Lighters

_Chase, Gill, and Luke, 16, 10, and 15._

It was hard to find a place to smoke in Waffle Town. All the neighbors seemed to have their ears to the wall while desperately trying to pass it off as not snooping, every last one of them eager to report back to our parents with news of who we were with or where we were going. That didn't bother me, seeing as my birth-parents were dead and I had it out for my foster-parents as all teenage rebellions do.

The only place to really catch a break was in Praline Forest. I wasn't exactly what you'd call a "location aficionado" so I'd let the Carpenter's son tag along, if only for the sake of leading me back to civilization when I was finished with a cigarette. Plus, he kept his mouth shut.

Only in a figurative sense. He'd never shut up about the most mundane shit, but I had to admit that among the endless rambling sometimes the things he'd say would be profound or even just hilarious. We got along well because he was the only other boy on the island who could talk about girls without getting choked up or red in the face or go on and on about a crush that would never happen.

I remember one time when he told a nearby island girl that she was a smokin' hot babe, and then the sound of a hand meeting the side of his face with a sharp cracking sound that made me cringe. He provided good entertainment, especially when television reception was terrible being so far from civilization.

The things I said that sounded a little harsh were just rolled off his shoulders, so we got along well, balancing each other out in equal measure. He was outspoken and cocky, and while I was both of those things I did them in a completely different manner.

In between shifts at the Inn to earn my upkeep there, sometimes we'd spend all day in Praline Forest together. It was the only place away from prying eyes that we could get, the only hope for salvation we could manage being in such a rural community. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the city often.

It was one of these days when Luke brought up the wise idea to make a cabin in the woods. Since his precious axe was just bestowed to him by his father, he was eager to start chopping and building the foundations of his first home away from home, and I was all the more eager to just have a place to go that didn't constitute as being hassled by the daughter of the Innkeepers.

We built it in record time of just a few weeks. We worked fast right before hot weather set in because working sweaty would have been awful, and the result was an average-sized room of a cabin. After Owen's family was done refurbishing their house, we were able to steal some furniture from the side of the road to put in our own place of solitude.

All in all, it worked out pretty well. We had a couch, a sofa, and a coffee table, which at the time was all we needed. There was no electricity running through the cabin itself, so we'd have to take a flashlight into the woods with us when we walked back and forth. Sometimes, for desperate measures, we'd use my lighter. The place was pretty well insulated, but we took blankets for winter weather and tucked them inside the coffee table for "just in case" moments.

It was after one of my shifts when I met a familiar face.

I hadn't exactly paid attention in the beginning, when I had just arrived back on the island and Luke was pointing out and naming all these people that didn't matter. I hadn't even so much as walked down around Yolanda's house, and that was just across the road and down a little ways away. The only places I needed to be were at the Inn and in the woods, but for some reason, Luke had chosen us to take a different path to the forest that day.

Around the church, through Maple District and then to the right until we hit the forestline. The area was unfamiliar, but I knew Yolanda's house, because her name was on the mailbox with a little note telling people where she'd be if they needed her. Not many people needed Yolanda's services, so maybe it was just a desperate cry for someone to spend some time with her. It was a weird thought.

I only noticed someone looking at me from the second story of the unnamed house, and I stopped dead in my tracks, almost sending Luke tripping over himself as he wasn't paying any attention and was rambling away.

"Whose house is that?" I gestured with my head towards the door. Pointing would have been weird, and the person looking back at me through the window could have thought I was being nosy.

Luke made a sound like he couldn't believe how ridiculous I was. "That house?" His usual goofy grin welled up into one of satisfaction. I didn't initiate conversations with him often, just an abiding listener to his random stories.

"That's Mayor Hamilton's house! And his son Gill lives there too, but he's not exactly... friendly, y'know? Not that the guy is bad or anything, just a little socially awkward. It's kinda precious!"

It was weird to hear the word precious come from Luke's mouth, but I could see why later on. Luke waved at the person in the window, and the boy looking down at the street curled his fingers in a wave back. Luke mouthed something at the window, and in a moment, the boy receded into the curtains.

"He's coming with us! Man, that's so cool how you haven't met Gill yet. Kinda weird, really, but you're kinda weird so I expect that..."

I was confused at first.

I couldn't quite believe that this young boy was any older than 5, but when he insisted that he was born ten years ago and Luke confirmed that he wasn't messing with my head, confusion changed to awe.

He was short for his age- extremely so. I could tell it bothered him, because when he brought it up he mentioned that he supposed he couldn't have inherited everything from his mother. I brought up his appearance in contrast to his fathers, and his silence confirmed that his mother was a sensitive topic. Luke changed any awkwardness between us to comfort, even if our sentences consisted primarily of "shut up, Luke".

It wasn't that his height was his most prominent feature. If anything it was his face, young and beautiful and yet eyes that were wise beyond his years. It was a little scary, like talking up to an adult, but the way he laughed was childish and pretty all at the same time.

We were rarely seen without each other after those moments. Luke and Gill and I were bonded brothers, attached at the hip the way children bond to those they love as deeply as they can. It didn't matter that Gill was so young compared to me, by 5 years and just a few short months. The words he spoke were much older and refined than anyone I'd ever heard.

That was revealed when he'd read in our cabin. With a little lamplight on his side of the couch, facing towards his book and projecting a big shadow of the novel he was reading on the wall across from him, sometimes the only sound would be the turn of each page.

They were names I didn't understand from authors that were long dead before my time in the world, so it didn't interest me. The only thing I was interested in was listening to Gill talk about what these books were about, because he'd explain them in a way that I could understand.

I undoubtedly liked girls.

I thought about girls a lot, usually in the confines of my own bedroom, as much as a sixteen year old could. I even though about the Innkeeper's daughter from time to time, with a balled up wad of tissues and a little lotion by my side like all boys did.

But there was something in the way he spoke, how each word would flow from his mouth when he'd tell me stories about the things he'd been reading and quoting little scenes by flicking back to each page. It didn't really take all that long for me to start thinking about other things he could do with his mouth, all things considered. Even though Gill was young and hadn't had the joys of adolescence thrust upon him, I still thought of him in the way I would think of girls.

It started by accident. In the middle of thinking about Maya, or Phoebe, or Selena, his image would drift into my head without my choice in the matter. Those things I'd imagine girls doing were filled with him doing them instead, which was a little sick on my part. I most undoubtedly liked girls. He was just an exception.

The sun was climbing down under the sea by the time Chase had finished work that night. It would've been no use trying to throw rocks at Luke's window, because Bo had just moved into his bedroom and would've told Dale that he left in the middle of the night.

That didn't matter. Chase knew the place pretty well by that time, and he was already lighting up a cigarette when he had disappeared into the forestry and the light of nearby homes had receded.

Luke kept his flashlight at home, and no light could filter in from the stars through any cracks in the wood pannelling. Chase hit his foot off the doorframe the moment he stepped inside, muttering "fuck" under his breath as he shut the door behind himself. Having memorized the place pretty well, he fell onto the sofa, with only the light from the tip of his smoke to keep him company.

At least, until someone cleared their throat.

Chase shot up from his spot on the couch with lightning speed. Fear rushed through him in droves, and he reflexively went to the pocket of his shirt, pulling out the extra box of matches he had kept for lighting candles on the tables of the Inn.

Gill sat across from him, cross-legged on the floor, already staring at him as though being able to see him clearly in the darkness. Chase heaved a relieved sigh, which was replaced by curiosity and a slight bit of worry.

"Uh. Hey. What brings you to my humble abode."

Gill rolled his eyes, as if he'd already told Chase he was going to be there and what he was going to be there for.

"Nothing. Don't talk like that, it sounds forced. I just didn't want to be home."

Chase's eyebrow raised, but he didn't mention anything else on the matter, nodding his head and breathing out an "oh" before stepping over the coffee table and flicking out the match. He sat on the floor across from Gill, blind save for the faint outline of Gill's body in the dark.

He could hear Gill shift over the floor in an attempt to get comfortable. There was even a slight sniffle, and it brought him back to past memories he didn't believe could exist. He had met Gill for the first time when Luke had introduced them, hadn't he?

Another sniff from Gill's side, and Chase's eyebrows furrowed as he exhaled smoke.

"Are you crying?"

"No. I'm just cold."

Thinking back on the way Gill looked in the light, it didn't seem like he took a jacket. He'd probably been there for quite some time, at least when the early weather was warm and humid.

Chase leaned behind himself to fish around for the blankets he'd stocked in the coffee table for situations like this. They smelled a little dusty, but otherwise he deemed them fine, passing them out towards Gill. Gill took them from him as though he could see perfectly, and Chase heard the sound of blankets moving over the floor as he wrapped them around himself.

"Better?" 

"They're cold."

Chase tsked. There was no pleasing this guy.

No sooner did he make that sound did he hear Gill shift over the floor again, just barely feeling Gill touch his knee before he sidled close. Chase sat rigid, eyebrow raised as he kept still.

Gill had settled himself down in his lap, head tucked under Chase's chin. He wasn't lying when he said he'd been cold, his skin feeling like ice wherever he touched. Figuring it best to help him out lest he get hypothermia, Chase's hands very carefully wrapped around Gill's waist and held him tight.

Very subtly, Gill started to move again.

It was just to get comfortable, situated down in Chase's lap, but the older boy tried to piston his hips away from the boy in his lap as he felt himself get hard. Thankfully in that darkness Gill didn't notice how red his face had gotten, but hiding his erection got a little more difficult when the smaller boy situated himself flat into his lap again.

Whether or not he noticed, Chase couldn't determine. Before he walked him home, the last things said were "thank you".


End file.
